1 My crimes awake, and hideous fear
Distracts my restless mind,
Guilt meets my eyes with horrid glare,
And hell pursues behind.
2 Almighty vengeance frowns on high,
And flames array the throne:
While thunder murmurs round the sky,
Impatient to be gone.
3 Where shall I hide this noxious head;
Can rocks or mountains save?
Or shall I wrap me in the shade
Of midnight and the grave?
4 Is there no shelter from the eye
Of a revenging God?
Jesus, to thy dear wound I fly,
Bedew me with thy blood.
5 Those guardian drops my soul secure,
And wash away my sin;
Eternal justice frowns no more,
And conscience smiles within.
6 I bless that wondrous purple stream,
That whitens every stain;
Yet is my soul but half redeem'd,
If sin the tyrant reign.
7 Lord, blast his empire with thy breath,
That cursed throne must fall,
Ye flattering plagues that work my death
Fly, for I hate you all.
Source: A Collection of Hymns, selected from sundry poets: together with a number of new poems, never before published #XII